


Not A Day Longer

by bearandcrow



Category: Chinese BL - Fandom
Genre: Blind Character, Blindness, Chinese BL, M/M, The Blind Concubine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 11:30:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17807183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearandcrow/pseuds/bearandcrow
Summary: Wen Muyan discovers the Emperor’s lie





	Not A Day Longer

**Author's Note:**

> Characters apologetically, but lovingly, borrowed from their creator Xia Niangniang’s The Blind Concubine  
> Editor credit & thanks to K.V. Moffet.  
> Art by @run_runesque
> 
> I needed a fixit.

 

Rain came, and with it a powerful wind, so strong he shivered in his little house. He worried the house would blow down and crush him. And then he would die.

At that thought, a sense of peace came over him. He was not afraid to die. He stopped shivering of fear.

In the quiet of the after-storm, when the rain still fell but had moved beyond his little home, he stood outside and heard something that was not as it should be. A strange sound, rain landing on a made-surface, in the distance.

He could not see, but he could hear very, very well.

Once he knew what to listen for, the rain told him what his eyes could not. This home was not secluded, was not alone. There was another building not so far at all.

He then knew that the Emperor had lied.

He had not been set free in this silent isolation. He might not have even left the palace.

What little he ate, became even less.

As lonely as he was, as broken his spirit, he had no energy left to try once again to be free.

He waited to die.

~~~~~

The Emperor was furious. “He is not eating. Why is my Blind Concubine not eating? Send only the best from my table.”

And still the Blind Concubine did not eat. He nibbled, but so little that he would soon fade and be gone. 

The Emperor’s physicians said they could not help the Blind Concubine. “His constitution is quite delicate. If he is requested to eat more, he becomes ill and vomits all food and medication.”

Jue Yu had been successful in the past, when the Blind Concubine had nearly died. The Emperor sent for him.

“What shall I do?”

“Discover,” Jue Yu said, “what he will live for, and grant him that.”

~~~~~

The Blind Concubine was lying on a soft couch the servants had placed in the warm sunshine. An unexpected sound startled him. He pushed himself to sit up, turned his head to hear better. Sounds of heavy, booted footsteps came from the path that led to the outer world. For a moment, he was hopeful, and then he recognized those footsteps.

His heart sank with dread.

The owner of those footsteps stopped near his couch. The Emperor said, “I have lied to you. You are not outside the palace. I have been watching you. Daily.”

The words infuriated him. Standing was difficult, but with arms shaking, the Blind Concubine pushed himself to his feet, and said, “I am but a caged bird to you, and you wish me to sing. I will not.”

“I cannot change the past! Tell me, what can I do to prove I am sorry. What can I do that you will ever forgive me?”

The Blind Concubine said, “Let me go.”

“No.”

“Then kill me.”

“No.”

“Then there is nothing.”

“You hate me.”

“With all my being.”

~~~~~

The next morning, the Emperor returned. Again, he asked, “What can I do?”

“Let me go.”

“I cannot.”

“Then kill me.”

“I cannot.”

Dismayed, the Blind Concubine said nothing.

“You hate me.”

“I do.”

But after the Emperor left, his anger was so great that he passed by his couch and sat at a table. A servant pressured him to eat, and so he ate small bites.

~~~~~

Again, the next morning, the Emperor returned. “What can I do?”

“Let me go.”

“I must be able to see you.”

“I cannot see anything, not even the sun that shines on my face.”

“Do you dare suggest I should likewise be blinded?”

“Of course not. You bend to no will other than your own. You deny yourself nothing. You do not suffer, though you demand it of me.”

“You overstep.”

“Then kill me.”

“No.”

The day he had been blinded was the day his future had been forever confined.

~~~~~

The next morning, the Blind Concubine waited for the Emperor to appear.

Again, the same question: “What can I do?”

“Let me go.”

“How can I be assured of your safety?”

“You cannot.”

He had not been safe since the day his father had been commanded to enter the palace, and he had accompanied his father.

This day, he ate less.

~~~~~

And the next morning: “What can I do?”

“Let me go.”

“For how long?”

“Forever.”

“No.”

“Then kill me.”

“That is forever. No.”

The Blind Concubine knew he asked for more than he would ever be granted. He ate a bit of soup and pondered why he asked.

~~~~~

The next morning, the Emperor did not come. The Blind Concubine wondered if he was being watched from a distance. He stood and turned his face toward that distant space where there should be only the world, but the rain, when it came, pattered on a rooftop.

He barely nibbled a bite.

~~~~~

The Emperor returned the following morning. “What can I do?”

“Let me go.”

“For how long?”

“Seven years.”

“Then you will return to me.”

“No.”

“I am your Emperor.”

“Then kill me.”

“No.”

~~~~~

And the next day. “What can I do?”

“Let me go.”

“For how long?”

“Seven years.”

“If I agree to this, will you forgive me?”

“I will try.”

“No.”

That day, the Blind Concubine ate a bit of bread and considered the meaning of forgiveness. He did not have it in him to forgive. Not now, but this was not the future.

~~~~~

To his surprise, despite that he had eaten, the Emperor came again the next day. And asked, as always, “What can I do?”

“Let me go.”

“For how long?”

“Seven years.”

“Will you forgive me in seven years?”

“If I am free, and you have not tricked me, I will forgive you.”

“No.”

So the Emperor had planned another trick. The Blind Concubine was not surprised.

~~~~~

As he had not had the will to eat, he was not surprised when the Emperor arrived in the morning.

“If you are free for seven years, and I do not trick you, will you forgive me?”

“I will.”

“How can I believe this?”

“How? You are the one who plays tricks, who lies, who cages, who keeps. It is not you who needs to believe!”

“Do you believe that I love you?”

“No.”

“How can I prove this to you?”

“Let me go.”

“How does this prove to you that I love you? To let you go?”

“You will have put my desires ahead of yours. Seven years, for the seven years I was held in the cold palace. And if in that time, your heart is still softened toward me, I will forgive you.”

“It is too long.”

“Too long? Too long? I am blind for all of my days and all of my nights. I will never ever see again. Not the stars, not a flower, not a face, not even my own hands. I have been imprisoned for nearly half of my life. Why? Because you choose to do this to me. Tell me, what is ‘too long’ to suffer, because I have not yet found an end to mine. Against the totality of my pitiful life, what is seven years to you, in which you will be deprived of but one blind concubine?”

“Too long.”

“Then kill me.”

“No.”

The Blind Concubine was stunned by his own outburst. His fury burned through the day. His sorrow carved out a hole in the core of his being and he did not eat.

That he had said those things to the Emperor and yet lived, and was not further punished, suggested that, perhaps, the Emperor did not wish further ill upon him.

But he still hated.

~~~~~

The Emperor arrived in the morning. The Blind Concubine was afraid, thought perhaps this time, the Emperor had changed his mind and would heap upon him more abuse, more pain.

He did not.

The Emperor said, “I will be truthful. I cannot leave you alone for seven years. I must be assured of your safety.”

“I can only be safe when I am dead. Kill me.”

“You must stop asking this! I will not kill you! I will not let you be in danger. Find a way to help me help you!”

“Let me go.”

“I will have guards with you.”

“Then I am imprisoned inside living walls.”

“You cannot speak to me this way!”

“Then kill me. You have the power.”

“NO! I WILL NOT!”

“You already have.”

The Blind Concubine did not eat. He lay upon the couch and wished for death to take him, but once again, death would not.

~~~~~

This morning, he had not the strength to rise to meet the Emperor.

“Had I burned down your house, I would buy you a palace. Had I made you poor, I would shower you with riches. I cannot undo what I have done. I cannot make your eyes see! Please forgive me.”

“Let me go.”

“Let me go! Let me go! This is all you ever say to me! I cannot. I will not.”

He ate a small amount, only to make the servant stop begging him. Some part of him feared for the servants and the fate they might suffer should he die. So he ate, and drank some tea.

~~~~~

He struggled to stand, to face the Emperor in the morning. The Emperor demanded he sit, helped him to the couch, and it angered him that his body so betrayed him that the man he hated was the one who helped.

“Please, you cannot die.”

“Nor can I live.”

“I will let you go. I will revise my vow and I will let you go for seven years. You must accept guards to keep you safe. I will give you a home, servants, food, money to spend, I will have you taken care of. Tell me where.”

“Far from here.”

“For seven years, and not a day longer.”

“For seven years, and not a day longer.”

“Do not give yourself to another.”

“I have no strength for such.”

“You will gain strength. Do not give yourself to another.”

“If I do, will you kill me?”

“No. I will kill the other. And their family. And their families’ families.”

“You are hateful.”

“I am desperate.”

“You will let me go, shackled to your will. I will not be free.”

But there had been no question. Not since the day he had been blinded and banished to the cold palace. He was not free. Would never be free.

He had thought that, perhaps, he could be more than a hollow shell awaiting death.

Now, even the days in the cold palace seemed inviting and friendly though he had nearly died there, from lack of food, from poison, from the cold. He had then had Xiao Bao and Yu Li, and had love in his heart.

Here, he had not even that. But for its steady beat, he would have wondered if his heart had also left him.

~~~~~

By morning, he met the Emperor with not even a glimmer of hope.

“You are not free. You will never be free. You are my Blind Concubine. I cannot live without you. I cannot have you fade to nothingness before my very eyes. We must compromise.”

The Blind Concubine said nothing, was muted to hear the Emperor finally speak the raw and ugly truth.

“You enjoyed my company when you believed I was a guard.”

“When you lied.”

“Only about that. I have great responsibilities as Emperor. None treat me as a man, but as Emperor. You treated me as a man, a friend. I wish to have that back.”

“You are not a guard.”

“I am not.”

“Let me go.”

“For seven years.”

“For seven years.”

“Say where.”

“Far from here.”

“There is a city, I will buy you a home, staff, guards, you will be protected. I will have daily updates as to your well-being.”

“You will not see me.”

“I will not see you.”

“For seven years.”

“For seven years.”

“I wish to have a cat.”

“You may pick your cat. You may pick your food. You may direct your servants to take you anywhere but into danger or more than a half-day’s trip from your home. I will have you safe.”

The Blind Concubine blinked in surprise, but said nothing.

“I will have you happy.”

“For seven years.”

“For seven years.”

“This will suffice.”

~~~~~

For seven years, the gloom of his impending imprisonment is held at bay by the joy of being in the world again. Among the living. To have friendships. Laughter. And a cat. A sweet, lazy cat who chose not to run around as Yu Li had. He is told the cat has large green eyes and a shiny black coat and white paws. He is named Mo Xing.

He is no longer just the Blind Concubine. He answers to his own, beautiful name. He is Wen Muyan and he is happy. He grows stronger. Though the years of hardship and poison have made him always more frail than others, he does not stumble. He moves easily within his own home. He pours his own tea and does not burn his hands. His hands do not shake. His is as strong as he will ever be and it is enough.

The servants love him. He is a kind and thoughtful master. One they would willingly die for. He is beautiful, and his grey eyes shine although they do not see. His strongest demand is that his servants keep a very strict accounting of the days and to let him know each and every time he awakes, what is the day. What is the year.

On the day before seven years has ended, he gives each servant a large sum from the money he has been given over the years and has not spent, and wishes them well. He thanks them for their kindness.

On the first minute of the first day of year eight, he sits in a soft chair amid the flowers, and strokes Mo Xing. He drinks tea. And he stares into the darkness, both his own and that of the night. He does not wait long.

Footsteps come up the pathway, one set booted and forceful. Others shuffle behind.

“Your seven years are over.”

“They are.”

“Do you forgive me?”

“I forgive you.”

“I’ve come to take you back.”

He shivers. He cares again, and so is afraid. Mo Xing is disturbed and hops off his lap. He stands and smooths his robes. “I am prepared.”

“What did you learn in your seven years?”

The question startles him. He is quiet for a time, pondering. “Because I cannot see, I do not know if you have lied and have seen me. Have you?”

“I have not.”

“Do you lie now?”

“I do not.”

“Then I have learned that you may be trusted.”

“I see. Do you want to know what I have learned in seven years?”

“What?”

“That I am lonely. That I cherish you above all others, and beyond words. That I wish you to be happy, with me. That I do not know how to be happy without you.”

“If you were but a guard in the imperial palace, would you sneak away from your duties, to come visit me?”

“I would.”

“I think I might enjoy that.”

“Will you come with me, of your own free will?”

“Do not ask of me what you will not grant me.”

“That was thoughtless of me. You are mine. Can you be happy?”

“We shall find out together.”

~~~~~

“Muyan,” the Emperor said, years later.

The Emperor, Rui Xuan, approached from the doorway, from behind, slipped an arm around his waist.

He pressed into Rui Xuan’s broad chest and warm embrace, turned his head to nuzzle Rui Xuan’s soft, amber-scented hair. “Yes?”

“Are you happy?” Rui Xuan asks this daily.

Muyan answers, as he has answered time and again, “Rui Xuan, I am happy.”

As it came to happen, once he forgave Rui Xuan, Muyan was able to be happy. Rui Xuan treated him with exquisite care, and one day, Muyan realized that he loved the man who had once made a terrible decision.

After, he found peace with the past.

It was not the life he would have chosen. But it was one he could be content with. Silky-soft Mo Xing was there. And clever Rui Ze, grown tall and strong and a joyful challenge to his mind. And when Rui Xuan was away, he had kind and caring friends who made him laugh.

It was not the life he would have chosen.

It was the life that fate had chosen for him.

With no small direction from his own will.


End file.
